


Then he growled, with his Grinch fingers nervously drumming, "I MUST find some way to keep Christmas from coming!"

by themegalosaurus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Crack, M/M, Monsterfucker Sam Winchester, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:00:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27821140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themegalosaurus/pseuds/themegalosaurus
Summary: Sam's monster kink gets festively out of hand
Relationships: Sam Winchester/The Grinch
Comments: 16
Kudos: 29





	Then he growled, with his Grinch fingers nervously drumming, "I MUST find some way to keep Christmas from coming!"

**Author's Note:**

> What I will say in my own defence is that a) people encouraged me to post this on here.
> 
> Context: [this Reddit relationships post](https://twitter.com/redditships/status/1332327177942134785), Sam's canonical openness to a little non-human hanky-panky, Jared's extra-textual enthusiasm for monsters ([the Wendigo thing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16845727)), my interest in Sam's mysterious blurry wife. Also it's nearly Christmas.

Every Who down in Whoville liked Christmas a lot  
But not all of them thought that the Grinch was as hot  
As Sam Winchester thought him; yes, thought him hot (very)  
As smoking and steamy as Santa is merry.  
Now Sam had known monsters (and Biblically, too)  
Known werewolves; known demons; he’d known quite a few,  
But the monster he dreamt of by day and by night  
Was all green and hairy: he set Sam alight  
With longing to stroke his thick Grinch-grassy fur  
To tickle his chin and to coax out a purr.  
Sam dreamed of the Grinch taking Sam in his arms;  
Oh, he whiled away hours contemplating his charms.

So imagine Sam’s unbounded, breath-skipping joy  
When a case brought him north on the trail of a boy  
Who’d been kidnapped by yetis and brought to the snow;  
And after Sam saved him he thought, “Well, you know,  
While I’m up here near Whoville I might just scope out  
If the Grinch that the lore says I’ll find hereabouts  
Is mere legend or if he’s a dude I could bang.”  
And when Sam saw that Grinch-house his heart nearly sang.

Sam dug his best shirt from his duffel with gusto  
He snapped the pearl buttons to fasten it just so  
Then he laced up his boots and he sprayed his cologne  
And he knocked on the door of the Grinch’s abode.  
As it opened, Sam’s stomach flipped over and flopped  
At the sight of his hearthrob in boxers and socks!  
For the Grinch had been lonely and jerking off miserably  
And thought Sam was Amazon package delivery.  
“Where’s my package?” said Grinch, and Sam’s chest fulled with fire  
And his veins they burned warm with his festive desire  
And with fingers that shook he unbuckled his trousers  
And said “will this do?” of his festive arousal.

“Well, I guess this is my lucky day,” thought the Grinch  
And he opened the door by a couple of inches  
And beckoned Sam through; so Sam shuffled in quick,  
For the frost of the north was a'nipping his dick.  
Before long had passed, they were both fully naked  
And Sam was bent over, the Grinch crying “Take it,”  
While Sam called out “Please” and “Oh, Grinch, you’re undoing  
Me quite,” as they revelled in pleasurable screwing.  
They each took the other; then finally, spent  
They collapsed into bed, both sated, content.

But Sam’s bliss was, alas, of quite fleeting duration.  
When the Grinch woke him up with some light masturbation  
The sun was arisen and light from its rays  
Shone into the bedroom in just such a way  
That the shape of his lover’s unorthodox features  
Reminded Sam of a less lust-making creature.  
To get more specific, the Grinch looked (as we know)  
Like Sam’s old tormentor: yes, Mark Pellegrino -  
Or Lucifer, if you prefer it Watsonian -  
Regardless, Sam’s fingers reached out for the sodium.  
But finding no salt (either powdered or rock)  
He extracted a knife from the side of his sock  
And brandished it in the shocked Grinch’s pale face;  
Said, “I’m sorry, but right now I just need some space.”  
The poor Grinch was dejected, though Sam told him crisply,  
“It’s not you; it’s me, and my grim sexual history.”

In short order, Sam dressed and was out of the gate  
While the Grinch wailed aloud at the cruelty of fate.  
For he’d enjoyed his fair share of sweet sensual prizes  
And Sam was the biggest by _more_ than three sizes.

**Author's Note:**

> This is usually where I solicit comments but, I mean. Do you want to confess to reading this?


End file.
